


Those Three Words

by supernatural_jackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Creepy Kenny, F/M, Fluff, Insecure!Dean, Smut., jealous!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 14:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16834783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural_jackles/pseuds/supernatural_jackles





	Those Three Words

Yet another case.

This month had been case, after case, after case, with no signs of letting up. It felt never ending. Your sleep schedule was so messed up that you had no idea what it felt like to have a nightmare, let alone a dream. The most shut eye you got was four hours minimum. Coffee had become your new best friend.

You, Sam and Dean had piled into the impala, driving off to the widow’s house. His wife was killed just two days ago, his heart ripped out of his chest, claw marks all over the body. Your instant thought was werewolf. The lunar cycle matching up almost too easily.

It was a nice quiet neighborhood. Trees in full bloom, flowers in every garden. It was a typical white picket fence, apple pie life. You pick your kids up from school at three, family dinner at six. This was the kind of place that you’d never expect a murder, let alone an animal attack. Which explained why it was dead. No movements. No one was even outside.

Dean pulled up in front of the house. A brand new mustang sitting in the driveway, looking almost like he had just washed it, like it was the guy’s prized possession. Piece of shit compared to Dean’s baby. The house looked nice from the outside. He had to make at least two hundred thousand a year to afford a place like this. _Overcompensating for something_ , you thought.

“You coming or are you just going to stay here and stare at the place?” Dean called out, almost coldly. You nodded your head, furrowing your brows at his tone.

Dean Winchester was your boyfriend of just over a year. And my god, what a year it had been. Never in your life could you have said you were happier than you were when you were with Dean. Not only was he the sweetest man you knew, especially behind closed doors. He was your everything. He never failed to make your smile by the simple things he did for you on a daily basis, like make you a fresh cup of coffee, giving you a kiss before handing it to you. There was no doubt that you didn’t love him. You loved him almost too much some days, and that’s what scared you with the life you both lived. But you’d never give up the love you shared with him because of fear.

Sam knocked on the door, the three of you waiting for the man to open up. When he did, he stood there, dressed up as if he was going out. Dress pants and a white dress shirt. Did he just get home from work? Maybe.

“Mr Stratford, Agent Page, Plant, and Tyler; FBI. We’ve got a couple of questions regarding your wife’s death, if you wouldn’t mind?” Dean stated, his voice void of all emotions. You watched as his eyes flicked from all of your faces, stopping on yours. You rolled your eyes the second you saw him check you out like you were his next meal. There was something off about him. Something that made you extremely uncomfortable. The man then nodded his head, opening the door for the three of you to enter. The boys motioning for you to enter first.

You took a seat at one end of the couch, just like you usually did during the interview sessions. This time, Dean took a seat at the other end, putting Sam in the middle. You couldn’t deny the way your heart pinched in your chest. What was wrong with Dean today?

“Mr Stratford, you were the one to find your wife’s body, correct?” Sam started.

“Yes. My wife Josie, she liked to sit out back after she finished work and relax. She did it everyday, waiting for me to finish work. It was our spot, you know? I came home late, later than usual and I forgot to call. I went out back and there she was. Her body torn open like it was some animals last meal,” he told the three of you. You could see it in his face that he wasn’t completely heartbroken at the loss of his wife. He was holding himself together _too_ well for a guy who lost his wife the day before yesterday. Not to mention the way he was looking at you like his next slam piece.

“You seem to be holding yourself together pretty well for a guy who just lost his wife, Mr Stratford.” you pointed out, wanting to see what he’d say.

“Please, call me Kenny,” he winked, causing you to swallow hard. “There’s nothing I can do. Nothing is going to bring my wife back. She was the love of my life.”

“Mr Stratford,” Dean cleared his throat, “Did your wife happen to have any enemies. You know, other women who would want her dead perhaps?”

“No. Of course not. If you’re imply that I was unfaithful to my wife then you are strongly mistaken. She and I had an open marriage. It’s not natural for a man to be tied down to one woman,” he furrowed his brows.

“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” Dean’s lips formed a line. You could hear in his voice that he was pissed and downright done listening to the douchebag that sat down in front of you.

“Thank you for your time, Mr Stratford,” Sam said lowly, standing up at the same time as Dean. You followed closely behind, not wanting to be left in a room with creepy Kenny.

“Agent,” he called out, grabbing your arm, holding it rather tightly. “If you have any other questions you’d like to ask me at a later date, perhaps, later on tonight. Here’s my number.”

“Further questioning is not required, Mr Stratford. I suggest you keep your hands to yourself,” you firmly stated.

“Come on. At least let me take you out, buy you a drink,” he insisted.

“No.”

You pulled your arm out of his hold before turning on your heel, heading as far away from him as possible. Dean walked passed you, taking a hard swing at Mr Stratford jaw, successfully knocking him on his ass with a loud crack. At first, you were in complete shock. Dean had never done that to someone, not dressed up as an FBI agent, and certainly not to a witness. You always fought your own battles, and this wasn’t even one of them. Punch after punch, Sam ran back in, hauling his brother off of the man without a word.

The ride back to the motel was silent and awkward. Your heart was still pounding in your chest from the previous event. Your mind was reeling over what could possibly be wrong with Dean. He had been acting distant over the last couple of days, but you add that up to be lack of sleep and the fact that he was ninety-five percent caffeine. Today was different. Today, he was cold to you. You didn’t think you had done anything wrong to make him angry at you. Dean wasn’t exactly the jealous type. Not really. There was something going on with him and you were determined to get him it out of him before it destroyed your relationship.

He pulled up in front of the room, cutting the engine before heading into the room. He didn’t bother to wait for either of you. You swallowed hard once more. You knew there was going to be a fight. There always was before thing settled down. It was just how things worked with Dean. You weren’t nearly prepared for that, but if it got everything out in the open, so be it.

“Sam, I gotta talk to him alone,” you frowned. He nodded his head, handing you his room key.

“You call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it, Y/N,” he reassured you.

“I’ll call you when it’s safe to come back,” you whispered, sliding across the back seat to climb out of the car. You almost wanted to walk slowly to the door, dragging it out before heading into the warzone. You and Dean didn’t fight. Not like this. Hell, your arguments lasted thirty seconds at most before one of you was giggling and the other was making jokes. The was one of the plusses of your relationship.

You slipped the key in the lock, successfully unlocking the door and opening it. Dean had destroyed the bed you were sharing. The sheets hanging off the bed, the pillows all over the room. Dean was sitting at the end of the bed. This was definitely about you.

You kept your distance, not wanting to poke the bear with a stick. You took a deep breath, trying to compose your thoughts. “Dean, what’s going on?”

“Don’t act like you don’t already know,” he practically growled.

“But I don’t know, Dean! Clearly you’re pissed at me for something I did. I can’t apologize if I don’t know what I did. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible.

“Don’t.” He raised his voice. “You don’t get to act all nice about this. You don’t get to act like you have no idea what’s going on!”

“But I really don’t know, Dean!” you shouted. “I have no idea what’s going on with you!”

“Why don’t we just save us both this argument and admit that this is done?” he responded. You swore, your heart cracked in half and fell down to your stomach. Tears welled in your eyes. What had you done that was so wrong? What had you done to screw this relationship up that you didn’t even realize? “Tears Y/N? Really?”

“What did I do?” you whispered. You were completely defeated. Your head cast down. You didn’t want him to see the tears fall. “Just tell me what I did wrong.”

“Come on. You’re dying to get out of this. You’ve done nothing but complain for the last week about hunting case after case. You let that douchebag hit on you right in front of me and didn’t even fight it. I mean that’s pretty low, even for you-”

“Dean, we’ve been hunting nonstop for a month now. I’m living off of caffeine and food that is ninety percent chemicals. I have been listening to Sam snore every night for the last month. I haven’t showered with decent water pressure let alone slept for more than four hours. I’m running myself into the ground,” you started. “As for creepy Kenny, I shut him down faster than anyone I ever have. Just being in that house set me on edge. But what is this really about, Dean? You’ve never gotten jealous over anyone before. Not the guys I hustle in pool. Not the bartenders. Why this? Why now?” you brushed away the tears that fell. “Do you not want me anymore? Is that it?”

“Well maybe it bothers me now that my girlfriend lets every guy hit on her,” he shrugged.

“Dean,” you breathed out. “What’s going on? I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me. And I’m sorry but I refuse to lose you over creepy Kenny. I can suck up all of that other stuff if it means I’m still yours. But I am not going to lose you without fighting for you. I love you too much to walk away.”

“I can’t give you a normal life, Y/N,” he yelled. His hand came up to his face, running down it before carding through his hair. You furrowed your brows. You took another deep breath, taking a step forward to sit on the opposite bed from Dean. “I can’t give you a life without hunting like someone else could and you deserve to have that. You deserve to be taken out on dates every week and treated like the only girl in the world. Hell, I’ve never given you flowers in all the time we’ve been together. I’m not good enough for you and I won’t ever be. I just don’t want to live two years down the road and have you realize it too. I don’t want to wake up and realize you’re gone because of it. It’s easier if we just do this now. I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, and I just don’t want to be here and have you get tired of me. I don’t want to watch that happen.”

You had always known Dean was insecure about himself. He was self-loathing, and selfless at most times. Hearing all of this shattered your heart even more. To hear him talk about himself in that way, to try and push you away so he wouldn’t get hurt later on. That was something you never wanted to experience. This was your fault. You weren’t being a good enough girlfriend if he was questioning everything. It was your job to reassure him that you loved every ounce of him and you hadn’t been doing that.

“Dean,” you said, almost inaudibly. “I don’t want a life without hunting, not if I don’t have you right next to me. I don’t need a white picket fence to make me happy. All I need and all I will _ever_ need is you. I don’t need flowers because, let’s face it, I wouldn’t be able to keep them alive for more than a few days. I don’t need date nights out at some fancy restaurant when I consider movie nights in the bunker date nights. I consider you making me and Sam dinner date nights. The nights where you make love to me are date nights to me, Dean. **I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be you.** I love you for you. You have lost so much in your life; so many people. You have sacrificed so much for this life we live.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

“You don’t have to apologize to me. I should be the one to apologize, because I haven’t been doing a good enough job in reminding you that I have never been happier in my life than I am by your side. I don’t ever want you to feel like you aren’t good enough for me. I would never leave you,” you confessed. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I’m sorry I hit the guy,” he almost chuckled. You couldn’t take the distance any longer. You climbed off the bed, moving to straddle his lap. His hands were on the small of your back instantly, holding you tightly to him, causing your FBI skirt to rise up.

“He deserved it. He was a dick,” you let out a laugh. “I don’t want you to be jealous though, Dean. With jealousy comes mistrust, and I don’t ever want you to think that I could want someone that isn’t you. Even if it was kinda hot that you hit him.”

“We’ll just call it defending your honour, my lady,” he smiled for the first time all day. “Don’t want to lose you, Y/N. You’re the best fucking thing to happen to me.”

“I want to hear you say it, De-” you muttered.

“Say what?” he furrowed your brows.

“ _Those three words,_ ” you said softly, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“Oh, you want to hear them?” he raised his eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. His hands slipped down to your ass, holding your tightly to him as he stood up. You let out a whine, as he walked you back until you were pressed between him and the wall. The best part of arguing with Dean was the make up sex.

It always started with him pinning you against the wall. His entire body pressed to yours, his length hardening in his jeans, or in this case, his dress pants, which made it all the more better.

The way his eyes were boring into yours, so soft and loving, like you were the only girl in the world. His tongue peaked passed his lips, giving you the tiniest preview of his teeth before he pressed his lips together once more. He shifted his hips, making sure you were secure before his hands left your ass. His fingers worked at the buttons on your shirt, his lips on the newly exposed skin instantly, causing you to let out a tiny groan. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear before peppering kisses below it. Shivers ran through your body. You desperately wanted him out of his clothes, your fingers playing at the buttons on his shirt, successfully until you couldn’t reach anymore.

“Dean,” you breathed out, grinding your hips on his growing erection.

“Fuck, you keep doing that and this isn’t going to last nearly long enough,” he muttered.

“I want you,” you told him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I want all of you, Dean.”

He nodded his head, knowing full well that you meant it in more ways than one. You were off the wall, Dean carrying you over to the already destroyed bed, placing you down gingerly. Your eyes locked with his as he unbuttoned the rest of your shirt. His fingers hooked in your skirt, urging it down your legs, taking your panties with it.

You sat up, your fingers playing with the belt on his pants, wanting nothing more than to free him from confinement. You could see him straining against his dress pants. The second the belt was unbuckled, you unbuttoned his pants, pushing his boxers down with it. His hard length sprang free. He finished off his shirt, letting the material slide down his arms and onto the floor.

“Dean, I -”

“Shh,” he smiled, urging you on your back. He finished unbuttoning your shirt, carefully removing it from your body and onto the floor next to the bed. His hands snuck around your back, unhooking your bra in one swift movement.

He came down next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips attached to your neck. Your body was on edge. All you wanted was to feel him; to show him how serious you were when you said that you loved him for him. You needed to make up for not showing him enough love. You would never make that mistake again.

You rolled him over onto his back, catching him completely off guard as you straddled his hips. You folds pressed directly against his long, thick cock. His hands rested on your hips, his mouth ajar, his eyes locked on you, gazing up at you with desire.

“God, you are so beautiful, Y/N,” he stated, his right hand tracing along your curves. You reached between your legs, taking his length in your hand, lining him up with your entrance, sinking down at a slow pace, letting him stretch you in the best way. His eyes clamped shut, his mouth opening wider as pleasure coursed through him. He felt fucking amazing inside of you, and he looked perfect underneath you.

“You’re so _damn_ handsome, Dean Winchester,” you breathed out. Your hands rested on his thighs, using it to keep you balanced as you gave him a perfect view of the show. You eased your way off his cock, starting off slow, building him up to drive him completely crazy.

He felt so damn good inside of you. Stretching you in ways no one had ever. Dean was amazing in bed, not just because he was well endowed. He was a lover. He made sure that sex was enjoyable for both of you.

“Baby you are just, uuh perfect,” he groaned as you sunk down on him once more. “So damn perfect.”

His hands were on your hips, gripping you tight as he rolled you over, your back hitting the mattress. His lips crashed to yours, kissing yours fiercely. You moaned against his lips as your hand made its way into his hair, running through the short locks before travelling down to his muscular back.

His thrusts were hard and consistent, matching the way his lips moved with yours. He set every nerve in your body on fire. You wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him a deeper angle to hit your sweet spots. Everything around you was Dean. He completely consumed every ounce of you and you wanted to give it right back to him. You rolled your hips in sync with his, causing him to break the kiss. He was panting, his eyes hooded with love and desire.

“Dean,” you whimpered.

“I know, baby. I can feel you. Go ahead, I’m right behind you,” he grunted. His hand came up to your face, brushing away the stray hairs that were stuck to your sweaty forehead. The way he was looking at you made your heart skip a beat. He was saying it. He was saying those three words, silently and sweetly.

Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him as pleasure course through your body. You threw your head back, your eyes slamming shut as you arched your back into him. You strangled out a moan, followed by Dean’s name, over and over again. God, it felt like you were on cloud nine. Your toes curled, your fingers digging into his back.

And when he comes?

The way he tensed and the way his cock twitched inside you. The way he bucked his hips into yours, trying to get as close as humanly possible to you. It was the way he wrapped his arms around your back, clinging onto you like you’d disappear if he didn’t. Then there was the moans, groans and whimpers that escaped passed his lips. The ones he refused to let passed his lips for the first two months of your relationship. The sexiest sounds you had ever heard a man make. When he’d finally let go, his orgasm overtaking his body, the way he cried out in the crook of your neck, panting hard. You would almost come again at just the sight and sound of him letting go.

This time, you did.

He was a panting mess on top of you, breathing hard into your neck. His hold on you still tight. Sweat coated his body, making you smile as you both calmed down. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, reassuring him that you were there with him and not going anywhere.

“Dean,” you said, your voice raspy.

“I love you,” he said nonchalantly, leaning over to press his lips to your cheek. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his word. He said them so smoothly, so casually.

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “We should probably get dressed. That werewolf isn’t going to gank itself.”

“No it’s not. But after this, we’re taking a well deserved break,” he stated as a matter of fact. “You need sleep. I’ll even make you breakfast in bed.”

“You’re too good to me.”


End file.
